Waste

Stage 01: "Landlord"

"Hey. Hey." Ginyu's pokin' at Berter. Blue wipes his snout, lookin' up at him, eyes redder than normal. "Eggs. Come on and eat."

I was right. "Hey, Jeice, wake Recoom and Guldo, would ya? Tell 'em to wash up, too."

Right man. Jesus Christ, these guys stink..! Come on now, wake up. I want some eggs. 'Coom's getting' up first, yawning, eyes all crusted and nasty. Ugh! Close your mouth! God… Go wash up and take Guldo with you! Messin' on the damn couch… Threw one of Bert's old flannel shirts on the spew. He won't mind, never does. Blue's pourin' coffee. Didn't even know we had a coffee maker… He probably got it from the Goodwill a few blocks away, or maybe he stole it. We're not above doing that sort of thing, y'know. Ginyu's getting our plates and junk together, one utensil per person; that's all anyone really needs. Dish detergent is a luxury, too, so our plates and bowls don't always get so clean. Here come 'Coom and Guldo. That was fast, but I'm not complaining. Now we can finally eat. We can only afford two meals a day now: breakfast and dinner. Sucks hard, this depression. I remember learning about the first one in high school. (1930s, was it?) I remember thinkin' how people could have had the balls to keep goin'. I'm going through it now and I still don't know how it is my friends and me are still alive...

We don't say grace anymore when we sit down to eating; everything that's happened is God's fault so why should we thank him for anything?

Ginyu's over by the window now, havin' a puff of a cigarette. He always smokes after breakfast over there at the window leading to the fire escape. He likes to look over the cityscape, I guess. That old city, gray and dirty, smoggin' up the whole damned planet. I smoke, too, even though I know it'll kill me in the end. …Maybe I should smoke more often. At least then I'd be free from this fuckin' life.

"'Ey, someone get the door, yeah?" Recoom's in the bathroom—getting' ready to go to work—which is down a little ways from the front door. Hell, I didn't even hear it, but I guess not; I'm in my room. Well, mine and Berter's. Don't know where he is right now.

"Yeah?"

Ah. I guess Ginyu was closest.

"What the hell do you want?"

Awww, damn. I know that tone…

"Your rent's late."

"You get your money when you get it. If you care about it so much, you'll be patient and shut up about it."

"Look, Ginyu, I've been giving you too many breaks on this. You guys have to pay your rent just like everyone else."

"What are you going to do, evict us? Look around, Raditz. See the condition of this city, this state? No one has money to pick up and move to get here, so you'd better hold on to the tenants you have, even if they do pay late every month."

And Ginyu slams the door in his face. Yeah, this is how it is every month. Raditz, the son of the building's superintendent, goes around collecting checks or money orders for the rent. As far as I know, we're the only ones who give 'im beef about it. I don't fault him for it, though. He's been pretty cool with us since we've lived here and he's only doing his job. The other guys are okay with him, and so is Ginyu, that is, until the first of the month rolls around. I don't think it matters too much. They get their payment in the end and we keep on living here. I wonder what kind of place Raditz lives in… Probably a nice little house in the suburbs, white picket fence, and maybe a dog or a cat. With 18 tenants on the lease, it's more than likely a step up from this squalor. Hey, what are we going to do if Bardock really does kick us out one day?

"He's not. He needs the money. Let's just worry about what to do about food for now."

Oh, yeah. I'd forgotten. See, things are so bad that the local government had to, uh… redistrict the whole city. Now everything centers around what market or supermarket you live closest to and depends on whether your ID ends in an odd or even number. If it's even, you get to shop on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays. Odd gets you Tuesdays, Thursdays, and Saturdays. Sundays give the stores time to restock. I think it's bullshit, but then again, I was pretty damn used to going to the store whenever I wanted. We only have about $10 between us until 'Coom gets his check, and it's Monday, which means not a one of us can go shopping until tomorrow. Just how the hell did we plunge so low that people can't even buy food when they want?

I see all these folks on the TV trying to sell their fancy sports cars and their DVD players, designer clothing and shit, always happy, looking like they enjoy life. And here I sit on the other end, a poor young man and jobless to top it off.

……I get the feeling we're being picked on sometimes.